


Finding Our Way

by Morse_s Child (sherlockstummy)



Category: Inspector Morse (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, M/M, Platonic Romance, Relationship Discussions, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockstummy/pseuds/Morse_s%20Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morse and Robbie are both really new to this. They don't really know each other's boundaries yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Our Way

The two men gazed at each other across the hotel room. The older of the two was the first to speak.

“Robbie, what in God’s name…?” Morse had gotten that far, but could go no further. The two of them had been in a relationship of sorts for at least a month now; officially, anyway, and it had been a rather nice month, if Morse was honest. He was enjoying being able to touch and kiss Robbie in all the ways he’d wanted to do for so long.

This was unexpected.

He’d come back to find Robbie sitting on the bed in his pants. Thankfully, he wasn’t hard, or Morse would’ve had a hissy fit. Shared anatomy or not, Morse was not sexually interested in Robbie. As far as he was concerned, any…problem of that nature could be left for Robbie to solve on his own. In the bathroom, perhaps with a magazine, and while loud opera was playing. Morse loved Robbie, but he wanted no part of carnal desire.

“Don’t you like it, Sir?” Robbie stretched one leg out elegantly.

Oh Lord. Morse scrubbed a hand over his face. “In a way, yes.” It was true that seeing and touching bare skin appealed, and he did have a certain fondness for Robbie’s legs, much like he admired most of Robbie, from shoulders to hips to legs and ankles. But he knew Robbie was trying to seduce him and that simply would not do.

Morse was no stranger to having feelings for men, but being gay was illegal in the sixties, and besides, he wasn’t gay. He felt there was nothing wrong with it; after all, people were people, and who they loved only became his business when murder was involved, but he simply wasn’t. He loved women and fancied men. He had never wanted sexual relationships with his own gender. Dating Robbie was a chance to indulge romantic feelings. 

“Sir?” Robbie asked worriedly. Poor lad was just as new at this as Morse. He forgot that sometimes.

Morse sighed. “We…need to talk.” He sat down on the bed, gently rubbing Robbie’s ankle. “Do you…want to have sex with me?”

Robbie thought for a long moment, head tilted back, eyes skyward. “I wouldn’t say no.” He finally replied. It was a veiled answer; he was waiting for Morse to be blunt.

“I do not want to have sex with you,” Morse replied, looking at Robbie head-on. “I love you dearly and I enjoy being with you, but I am not sexually attracted to men.”

Robbie nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.” Then, a light bulb went on behind his eyes and he blushed. “Oh. Then…ye didn’t appreciate this, did yeh?”

Morse chuckled gently. “I like the view,” he admitted. “But I knew you were trying to seduce me, yes.”

“So…that doesn’t work for you?”

“No. I’m sorry if you were expecting that.”

“Nah. Makes it a bit easier, actually.” Robbie nervously twisted the ring on his finger.

“Let’s not think about it, then,” Morse replied, addressing his suit jacket. “It’s such a nice afternoon.”

“Aye.” Robbie sat up a bit, watching Morse remove his jacket. “Yer wearin a waistcoat!”

Morse chuckled. “I thought I would dress up a bit.”

“I like it!” Robbie tugged on his sleeve gently and Morse carefully turned towards him. Slim, long fingers drifted down to the buttons. Robbie looked up, a question in his eyes. Morse nodded before he could voice it.

With reverence, Robbie unbuttoned the buttons on the waistcoat until it hung loose at Morse’s sides. Morse cupped Robbie’s cheek in his hand and pulled him close for a kiss. “I missed you.”

“Bullocks. She was pretty.” Robbie looked hurt.

“It’s a different aesthetic.” Morse argued. He almost retorted with a jab about Robbie’s wife, but let it lie. He wasn’t interested in sleeping alone tonight, or having to face the cold shoulder from his lover. Instead, he pulled Robbie close and kissed him again. “She is not very bright, and she did not go through the trouble of trying to seduce me.”

Robbie blushed. “Bloody flatterer.”

Morse nuzzled Robbie as he thought. “Still, it seems a shame to waste all this lovely skin…and I’m quite fond of your legs.”

Robbie started like an animal in headlights, eyes wide. “Sir, I…”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you called me ‘Morse’ now and again.” Morse gently pressed a hand against Robbie’s chest, pushing him back against the bed. He pulled his legs up onto the bed and undid his belt. Robbie watched curiously. “I get the feeling you were jealous of her.”

“I feel jealous when you show interest in women.” Robbie murmured. “I…can’t really explain…and I’ve no right to, but…”

“Shh,” Morse gently pressed a finger to Robbie’s lips. “It’s all right. My lack of sexual interest did not prevent me from enjoying the view, I assure you.” He coaxed Robbie’s legs apart and bent to press a kiss to the inside of Robbie’s thigh.

Robbie tilted his head back and let out a soft hiss of pleasure.

“Oh, good,” Morse purred with unimaginable gentleness, “you’re sensitive.” He sat up, eyes turning serious. “I’m not dealing with your genitals. If you start feeling like you need to…” he gestured aimlessly, “tell me, and then go into the bathroom. All right?”

Robbie nodded, settling back into place. “I’m happy with this, Sir-Morse.” He frowned. “It sounds strange. I want to call you something else.”

“Mm.” Morse bent to press a kiss to Robbie’s other thigh, smiling against skin as Robbie moaned with pleasure.

“What’s Italian for ‘love’?” Robbie asked, his breath coming a bit quicker now.

“Amore, if I’ve guessed right. Noun, not verb?” Morse ran his fingertips lightly along Robbie’s calf.

Robbie arched his back, sighing. “Mm…noun, yeh.”

“Then, yes, amore.”

“Amore.” Robbie repeated. “Go on, amore. Please.”

Morse nuzzled Robbie’s knee. “Amore. I like that. Good idea, Robbie. Your brilliance,” he lifted one of Robbie’s legs up and kissed the hollow of his knee. Robbie keened. “Your brilliance is what I miss when we’re apart. I don’t tell you enough how much I value your input, your ideas.”

“Amore.” Robbie sighed.

“Oh, you sound beautiful when you speak Italian. And you make such wonderful noises.” Morse moved feather light touches over the underside of Robbie’s thigh, up to his arse, and then down again. “Yes, lovely. Do please continue. You sound like a lovely little bird.”

“Amore.” Robbie arched his back again, face flushed. Morse dared a glance and saw that Robbie was getting hard. He had to smirk, to think he could produce such a reaction.

Morse kissed up and down Robbie’s leg. “One day,” he purred, “let me kiss your stomach and your chest like this. Let me run my fingers down your spine, touch your abs. I want to leave you breathless.” He was tracing a circle on Robbie’s thigh when the sergeant stopped him.

“I have to…” His eyes flickered to the loo.

Morse tilted his head slightly, all at once saddened it was over so quickly and impressed at the virility of the young. “All right.” He kissed Robbie again, lingering to taste him. Robbie tasted like cappuccino and pastry. Lovely. “Oh, you do make me hungry.”

“You make me thirsty.” Robbie butted his head gently. “You always taste of beer.”

Morse snorted. “Go take care of yourself, Robbie. I’ll be in my room.”

“Aye.” Robbie waddled to the bathroom. 

Morse snickered, memories of his youth returning. Then, he vacated the room before Robbie could start grunting.

**Author's Note:**

> Butter and I are always talking about the scene in "Death of the Self" when Robbie is just sitting in his pants in the hotel room. 
> 
> Robbie is obviously bisexual panromantic, but Morse is heterosexual biromantic. All that...genitals business...doesn't interest him. So...yeah.
> 
> Had an itch to write my romantic ship. Hope you've enjoyed!


End file.
